In the Midst of a Hunt
by gryffinclaw-witch
Summary: Tragedy first hits Hogwarts, and then on a smaller and more personal scale, while the trio are away hunting for Horcruxes. (Slight AU. One-shot. Formatting errors from a previous version have been revised.)


It was while waiting for the wedding to begin that Harry located Remus standing outdoors, leaned against the wall beside the Burrow's main entrance, after over thirty minutes of seeking him out. Harry was so relieved to see Remus and so exhausted from a lack of sleep the night before that he could hardly reach the tall, gradually balding brown-haired man fast enough.

"Harry," he said warmly. He brought himself forth from the wall and, as Harry approached, tugged lightly on his shirt to adjust it. It was crisp, neat, light-coloured, and probably unbearably uncomfortable—just like Harry's. "How are you?"

He skipped the question and replied courteously but without much of a grin. "Hi. Remus," he said abruptly, attracting Remus's attention with more firmness, and just the same, Remus's eyes seemed to be attached to Harry's with a stronger connection than was typical. In fact, now considering it, Harry might have only had this intense eye contact with Ginny before, or Dumbledore.

"Yes, Harry," pressed Remus. His head was slightly cocked now, in curious concern.

"Well—I'm thinking of not attending Hogwarts this year." In his head last night (lying in the spare bed in Ron's room), and once more upon waking up this morning, Harry had practised these words, practised piecing them together, practised how they might sound to another person's ears—especially Remus's, with his acute werewolf hearing—and, admittedly, the words had sounded far better in the silence of Harry's mind.

And, it hadn't crossed Harry's thoughts then, but now something about the way Remus's face fell let it occur to him that Remus was actually rather regretful not to have him as a student this year.

He knew Remus would ask why, but he didn't know when he would ask, so Harry went ahead to answer: "I—I need to search for these Horcruxes that Dumbledore told me about."

Harry forced himself to keep his voice low as he explained, "He was right about them, how crucial they are. I need to keep this up for him.

"Remus," said Harry, kind of nervously, but mostly so in anticipation for the upcoming months. "Would you please keep us updated?"

He blinked a couple of times, but agreed. "Of course, Harry," he promised, and for a number of seconds the eye contact grew to almost hurt.

"I mean, with news about what's going on here," Harry clarified, just in case Remus needed it. "Back home. Stuff about the Order—and Hogwarts and Dumbledore's Army, if you can get that kind of information—and I'm sure Ron will want to hear things from his family, too . . ."

"Has he actually settled on doing this with you?"

Harry felt his heartbeat accelerate and then halt altogether. No, Ron hadn't. But, when had Ron ever allowed Harry to do something dangerous on his own? (Save for dragon-fighting during their row in fourth year.) He often pursued Harry in all of his endeavours, also because if something was important to Harry, then it was almost automatically important to Ron by association. The greatest part was, even though Ron could sometimes act immaturely, he knew how to be reliable and dedicated towards a cause that he considered important.

"Yes," said Harry with the slightest incline of his head.

He held Remus's gaze for another couple of seconds until the latter said, "All right. I'm going to try to do what I'm capable of, Harry, but it would be irrational and irresponsible of me to make a regular commitment for something this difficult."

"Thanks," Harry said at once, believing that word, no matter how many times he could repeat it, would never be enough. "I—I know it's complicated, but thanks, I—"

Remus smiled, and Harry stopped in his sentence before trying again, "I just don't know how long we'll be gone."

As they both turned towards the tent, Remus lifted his arm in a sort of way that suggested he would place it atop Harry's shoulder, but Harry never felt it. "Come on," he heard Remus say close to his ear. "Let's go to give Bill and Fleur their day."

* * *

><p>"<em>Welcome to another broadcast of <em>Potterwatch_, loyal listeners. No guest speakers on today's programme; here we're coming to you from a place of risk as we inform you that a small number of Death Eaters and their associates managed to infiltrate Hogwarts's outermost grounds this past afternoon._"

"Is that _Potterwatch_?" Harry asked from the small kitchen within their tent. He had just made a mug of tea, but now didn't have much of an appetite remaining.

Ron fleetingly looked up at him to shush him. He was sitting so close to the radio that the sound was somewhat muffled. Near him knelt Hermione, who toyed with the aerial in an attempt to get better reception. It was beyond eleven o'clock at night, but none of them could easily find sleep.

Harry approached the radio as Lee Jordan explained further: "_Reports are now saying that they were on the property for up to two hours before their presence was observed. They made it inside the main castle building by early evening, right before supper according to some claims._"

First, as Harry watched Ron's face pale and Hermione slowly look at the radio's loudspeakers, he felt a lack of doubt that all of the blood had left the surface of his skin too. The lightheaded feeling gave plenty of way to the vulnerability hiding in the rear corners of Harry's mind; he had only the utmost trust in what Lee was talking about. This was much too crucial to lie about, anyway.

"_A small skirmish ensued as Hogwarts staff tried to round up all of the Death Eaters. Most allegations insist that no staff members were injured. At the latest count, seven Death Eaters have been located and removed, but at the moment Argus Filch is leading a manhunt for any who may remain._

"_Classes have been postponed until the castle has been verified to be free of Death Eaters. Hopefully this confirmation will be made sometime tonight; in the best scenario, classes will resume for students tomorrow morning._"

Briefly, Harry was relieved not to be at Hogwarts any longer. But that was replaced very soon by an overwhelming fear for Neville, Luna . . . Ginny. He chanced a glance at Ron and could safely assume he was thinking the same.

"_That brings us to an end for tonight. We'll continue to update you on the Hogwarts situation, as well as other ones, as updates are received. The newest password is 'Quidditch.' Protect yourselves; until next time, this is River signing out for all contributors._"

There was a slight buzz from the radio that followed. Hermione was staring at the device in pure shock, and then cautiously turned it off. After a swallow, Ron stood up, leaving her and it on the ground.

"I'll be awake for it overnight," he declared to his friends. "We need to hear those updates as they come, and I should be listening in for them anyway."

"Let us take turns," said Harry, placing his mug on the small table beside Ron's bed. He turned his head behind him to look at Ron, who had passed him and entered the kitchen.

He was rummaging through the items on the worktop, but then suddenly stopped as though nothing there interested him. "You need your rest. Both of you," he said.

"So do you," insisted Hermione. And, Harry knew she was right just from one glimpse to Ron's sagging eyes and stiff muscles. She hadn't risen yet to her feet, but she had twisted her body to fully face Ron and Harry (mostly Ron), watching them expectantly.

Harry wanted to grin. _She_ knew she was right, and her pride of it was amusing.

Ron gave them long looks.

"Tomorrow," he offered. "Tomorrow night. But . . . this all seems really vital, the stuff that's going to happen tonight, and I don't want to try to convince myself to sleep through it."

Recalling a number of occasions, Ron had slept during _Potterwatch_ broadcasts before, when he wasn't supposed to. It was due to accident, of course, and usually only a nap that lasted less than an hour. About two weeks earlier, for instance, Hermione had awoken before dawn on a night when Ron had _Potterwatch_ duties, seen him snoring, and (rather than listen to the radio herself) shouted at him to get up. It wasn't funny at the time, especially since Ron had been cross and sullen with her for the next thirty-six hours, but now Harry thought of it as a humorously memorable incidence.

"Can I listen with you?" she asked Ron now.

"No," he replied at once.

"You shouldn't be on your own," Harry said, and Ron's eyes flicked to him.

They were rigid, borderline empty, but Ron spoke past that to say, "Okay."

* * *

><p>Harry didn't want to be the only person sleeping that night, but Ron wasn't willing to have it any other way. Regardless, Harry felt some guilt, as though he was neglecting his friends. Or they didn't need him around, either.<p>

That latter assumption was proven inaccurate when Harry was bolted awake by a thunderous rattling. He almost felt nauseous when it finally quit. It was difficult to even turn over with the two wide palms pressing on and shaking his shoulder, and as Harry at last got a clear picture of Ron above him, he made a mental note to stop sleeping on his side.

"Get up," Ron was hissing over and over, and Harry obeyed. He forgot if he actually responded with words. It was as he sat up that he saw it was not long before sunrise; there was somewhat-dark blue through a slit in the opening of the tent—one which Ron and Harry tried for almost two hours on the first night camping to close, for safety and privacy during the next couple of months, but couldn't figure any way to do it. It was open and would probably stay that way.

Inferring correctly that this abrupt and literal wake-up call concerned _Potterwatch_, Harry stumbled after Ron to where Hermione was seated on the floor, a hand almost covering her lips. She had drawn her knees near to her body, and her hair was more untidy than Harry remembered seeing it the evening before.

"—_and it comes after a lengthy investigation that the staff of Hogwarts have announced that there are no lingering Death Eaters on the grounds. Precautions will be taken, however, to ensure that nobody is unnecessarily endangered; one such is that the number of Dementors patrolling the castle's exterior._"

"If there were Dementors, how did these gits get in?" Ron mumbled to the radio.

"_It hasn't yet been determined how the captured Death Eaters entered the premises._"

Harry raised his eyebrows at Ron in an expression that told him to be patient and shut up. Ron meekly noticed it, and stayed quiet after that.

"_Since our last broadcast at two o'clock this morning, one more Death Eater, presumably the last one, has been seized. At least five of the Death Eaters have been identified as Snatchers; most of these were in pursuit of Muggle-born wizards and witches, and instructed to approach Hogwarts for this reason._"

Beside Harry, Hermione's breath caught.

Harry hadn't spoken to Justin Finch-Fletchley in well over a year, but the way Lee said his name ignited something old in Harry's chest. It only felt worse as Lee went on to explain how he had been trapped alone in a corridor and then temporarily captured by two Snatchers just after dinner. As part of Filch's improvised Death Eater search-team, Professor Flitwick, while making rounds on the castle, had found Justin in "gravely severe" condition lying on the grass around midnight. Justin was brought to the hospital wing, where he had died of his injuries after another forty minutes.

"_It would appear that Hogwarts is now free of Death Eaters. Come morning, in accordance with one guideline, the lockdown on all student dormitories will lift. Decisions have yet to be made concerning whether classes will resume today or later this week, but a burial service for Finch-Fletchley is likely to be held over the weekend, once his family is alerted._"

The radio was quiet for a moment as Lee offered some seconds of silence for Justin. Then he closed the broadcast:

"_That's the story we have for you yet, listeners. More to come, as it's available. Have a safe day._"

Once again, right after that, the radio was devoid of noise.

"Excuse me," Hermione murmured, and moved painfully through the tent to the bathroom. Almost fifteen minutes later, after Ron had changed into fresh clothing and Harry had taken out griddles and plates to make breakfast—both of them aware that nobody was going to be able to return to sleep—Hermione returned in tears.

Ron went right over to her as she staggered towards one of the chairs, but Harry had to turn off the fire on the stove before advancing in their direction.

"Hermione," Ron was saying when Harry was there.

"I can't believe they got him," she huffed, still crying, holding her forehead in her hands as if it was too heavy for her.

Ron sighed a little. "Don't worry—"

"How can I not worry?!" she burst out, making Harry flinch. "When Voldemort's got a whole division of Death Eaters going after Muggle-borns? And his whole organisation works to eliminate people who aren't pure-bloods—They don't give a single damn for Muggles, anyway—They're after Muggle-borns."

"Hermione," said Harry. Her getting worked up wouldn't help anything.

"They're after me!" she cried out.

"They're already after us!" Ron raised his voice at her, but Hermione didn't cower. Her eyes were wet, but narrowed—at him. "This forest has no less danger associated with it than Hogwarts does."

"Yes it does," said Hermione, the last letters of each word lost to the sobs at the back of her throat, "because Harry's with us instead of at Hogwarts."

Harry tried to inhale, but it got stuck before it reached his lungs. He stood still, kind of breathless, kind of numb, feeling sort of ill, and didn't speak.

Immediately Hermione interjected, "I—Harry, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean for it to sound like that, but it's not the way it sounded, completely. Please, I'm sorry."

Although, he knew what she had meant, and just as every time before, she was right. It had always been a thought in his head, but now it was becoming increasingly clear to Harry that not even his best friends could be safe alongside him. They'd both been straightforward and adamant in joining Harry this year, and now here Hermione was sad and fearful.

"I know you're the best option we have, Harry, I'm sorry. I would much rather be here than at Hogwarts or anywhere else."

He still felt frozen, and it took more energy to summon his voice than to actually talk.

"Can you handle it here?" he asked her seriously.

She sniffed, and blinked a couple of times.

"I'm going to be okay," she told him, in the firm sort of tone she used more often now, when trying to be persuasive.

* * *

><p>Slowly, over a period of the next three months, Harry received pieces of news from Lupin. The first one was a relief—Harry had dreaded that Remus had maybe forgotten to follow through—and it was mainly a recap of the Snatchers' penetration of Hogwarts and what had happened with Justin. Apparently Remus didn't know that Harry spent every night falling asleep to the sound of Lee's voice now, as well as intermittently listening through the day.<p>

Usually when Lupin's owls landed at the tent, Harry would wait to share the message's content until Hermione was out of the room. He would read aloud each note to Ron, and typically a brief discussion of strategy or devising of a plan ensued. Then, later, Harry would give Hermione word of the more positive tidbits from Lupin's updates; although he did skim through the serious parts, giving her a main idea but few details. She still deserved to know what was going on, and honestly.

She had grown a little more reclusive, with quiet tendencies, Harry noticed pretty often now. Out of understanding for the kind of fear she was tolerating on a daily basis, he had taken up small tasks for Hermione, like keeping the tent neat and cooking a couple more meals every week. Another action, not as small, was that he primarily shared the locket with Ron now, very rarely allowing Hermione to wear it unless she practically forced them or threatened them into letting her take it for a couple of hours. Harry didn't argue when that happened, but he didn't like Hermione wearing it. It seemed to be taking a harder toll on her than on the boys.

Meanwhile, Ron took on some of her responsibilities, too, and tried cheering her up using humour. It hardly worked most times, but she sometimes smiled or chuckled out of politeness. As Harry noticed very occasionally, Ron gave her hugs as well.

It was around lunchtime on a day in early October when Harry heard scratching on the fabric of the tent. He drew his wand and slipped outside, only to find an owl tearing at the tent, done in an attempt to attract Harry's attention.

Harry brought it a treat from the kitchen inside and accepted the envelope as the owl ate contentedly. Then, he moved into the tent; usually the owl would return to its sender upon realising that the recipient had no other deliveries to make to the sender.

Hermione was asleep on the only sofa in the tent. Ron had gone out to hunt for small animals that they could cook. Harry was glad he could read Lupin's update alone; he opened it and went into the kitchen to _Aguamenti_ himself a glass of water.

He drank as he began to read:

_Harry,_

_As you may or may not know, we in the Order have been trying to protect the parents of your friend Hermione in recent months, without letting them too far into the Wizarding World. That being said, they obviously have been some awareness of magic since their daughter was first accepted into Hogwarts, although their knowledge is not extensive (and we have tried to keep it that way)._

_It has been difficult because of the distance between us and them, in Australia, but we have managed to take sufficient care of Hermione's parents until this point. We learned this morning that they were killed._

_I and some other members of the Order are currently investigating the cause, but we suspect that it was the work of Death Eaters. They definitely weren't natural deaths. With luck an answer will come soon. (I plan to update you when it does.)_

_Tonks and Kingsley just returned from their visit to Hogwarts (they left upon hearing that Death Eaters had invaded the castle). As of today's count, just less than half of our members are missing. We suspect at least one of them to be dead at this point—pending a confirmation of this, I will inform you._

_Hoping you are safe and well._

The letter was signed with Remus's messy signature; it had taken a couple of letters so far for Harry to distinguish what it said, but eventually he had realised it was _R. Lupin_.

Harry couldn't believe, though, the rest of the letter. He didn't have to look at Hermione's sleeping figure to worry about how she might react when he relayed the news to her. But it was certain that, no matter how many bad things he had concealed from her in the past several weeks, this was something that she had a full and undeniable right to know.

But he wasn't going to tell her yet. He was at least going to wait for her to wake up—she deserved a bit of peace before some bad news that would change her life forever.

* * *

><p>For no reason would Harry have expected Hermione to be tolerant of the information, but the result wasn't quite as he'd anticipated, either.<p>

It was a week after and, upon learning of her parents' deaths, Hermione's grief and terror could only escalate. Harry understood why: two of the safest things in her world—her school and now her family—were ravaged by the most dangerous things in the Wizarding World—Death Eaters. They were Voldemort's handiwork, and Harry thought they had to be destroyed.

From that point, Hermione had first thrown herself into the Horcrux hunt. She was practically leading that sort of work, now. In the past several days, as per her relentless suggestions, they and Ron had moved campsites twice. The first time was because she had promptly wanted to leave the Forest of Dean; she wouldn't explain why, but it was likely due to the memories which lingered there, the ones of her parents.

"We need to be ready," was her argument when she confronted Harry the evening after that.

He knew her hopes, but didn't want to fuel them. "We're as ready as we have been the past month," Harry protested, as calmly as he could. "Hermione, you know our responsibilities are with the Horcruxes right now. We can't move as often as you want us to, because what if we're leaving a Horcrux behind?"

While Hermione glowered at Harry and worked out a response in her head, he looked at Ron, who was sitting on the sofa's cushions and staring at the wall opposite him, the radio tightly in his hold.

"—_and while the search goes on for more offenders_," relayed the voice from it, "_there have been no warnings or alerts issued for Muggle civilians yet. . . ._"

He saw this as a reasonable point to interject. "It's better to take our time," he said, making stern but not angry eye contact with Hermione from across the tent. "At least that way, if we do miss a Horcrux because we're going too fast, we won't need to recount our steps or come back."

Hermione swallowed, leaving her gaze on Ron, and then returned to Harry soon: "But you said you've been thinking about other possibilities: that there might be some in Hogwarts. Remember?"

It was difficult to decide if her earnest was genuine or manipulative. "Hermione—" he sighed, but Ron gave his input once again.

"Don't challenge something this important," he said, and almost spat out, "Hermione."

She was instantly more bitter at him.

"What sort of argument are you willing to make for it?" she exclaimed. "The only reason _you_ want to stay is to look for Horcruxes, and not because you care, but because you know as soon as that's done and well, you can go home to your family." The final word was sour coming off of Hermione's tongue. "And what if we've seen it all already? We've gotten a couple by now, the ring and the cup, but we haven't _done_ anything with them yet! And—that damned locket!"

Ron was wearing it at the moment. He offered to wear it the most often of everybody, even when Harry insisted he should leave it with somebody else (just not Hermione) for a while, but sometimes Ron was simply obstinate.

"Take it off sometimes!" Hermione raged. "You're going to get yourself hurt—or you'll accidentally hurt one of us—or you won't realise anything you're doing."

Ron bolted up straight. He was still gripping the radio, but looked as though he wanted to throw it to the floor.

"Don't treat me like I don't know it's true," said Hermione, taking a few more steps out of the kitchen until she stood more in the middle of both boys, instead of closer to Harry. "I've worn it before and I know how it clouds your thoughts and tricks you. You're going to fall for it if yo—"

"Shut up!" Ron shouted. His knees were bent like he was about to approach her at a run, but he froze in the spot he stood in.

"Stop it!" Harry immediately crossed halfway in front of Hermione, blocking her left side. If anybody was going to be hurt in Ron's locket-induced rampage, Harry would rather it be him than Hermione.

It took a second for anyone to carry the conversation forward, but Hermione said eventually, after what must have been a not-so-cautious thought process, "Take it off, Ron."

Harry overheard tears in her voice, but didn't turn around to see them in her eyes.

"No."

"Ron! You're—"

"If you won't contribute to the discussion," he said, "or to the hunt at all, then leave."

The chatter coming from the radio sounded like white noise to Harry. For a moment it felt like he wasn't where he was, like he was observing the fight from the top of the tent, not in his own body or mind.

Hermione's arms folded across her chest.

"I'm not going to do that," she enunciated.

Ron glared at her with narrowed eyebrows that looked thicker in the low light. It was all quiet, too much so, until Ron said:

"Fine." The gold of the locket glinted against his shirt as he started to walk away. "Then I'll do it for you."

Neither she nor Harry thought Ron was serious until he actually made a way towards the opening of the tent. At that time, Hermione stiffened behind Harry and shoved past him, breaking into a jog to reach Ron.

"Ron!" she said sharply, and caught him at the front of the tent. Both of them ignored the tears that were coming back to her. She pressed her hands on his shoulders to make him wait and listen, but he only looked at her like he wished she hadn't touched him.

"Don't, Ron," Harry warned, but pretended not to know that Ron perceived it to be an empty threat. He didn't blame Ron in that; honestly, Harry wasn't sure how he could reinforce those words.

"What?" he snapped, spitefully looking at Harry now instead of at Hermione. "Don't, what?"

He and Harry exchanged lengthy scowls, and after noticing the details of each, Hermione raised her chin to see Ron better, and clarified "Don't do this" in the moment that Ron tore the locket from his neck and forced it into her fingers.

It was a resentful departure he made, without looking back, even with both Harry and Hermione chasing after in a lack of success.


End file.
